


Undefined

by anoterlife



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Broken Draco, Broken Harry, Drarry, Healing, M/M, Mpreg, Not Epilogue Compliant, One Shot, Post-War, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Time Skips, Unconventional Relationship, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 11:14:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13856637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoterlife/pseuds/anoterlife
Summary: Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had just happened.





	Undefined

**Author's Note:**

> It's been snowing all week in Britain and I've effectively been trapped in my house, so instead of doing my work I wrote this.  
> It's not been beta read but I hope you like it...

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had just happened. 

If you asked either of them neither would really be about to pinpoint when it had started. You could say it was the first time the fell into bed together during eighth year slightly drunk and more than a little broken. But in all honest it had been before that. That first time had just been the accumulation of everything from before coming to a head. And all things considered the start didn’t really matter, what mattered was that for some reason they worked together.

“Somethings just happen. Do we really need to lie in bed trying to categorise and date it like some lovesick fourth year?” Draco drawled. 

It wasn’t a relationship in the traditional sense. They didn’t walk down the corridors holding hands and kissing each other. You wouldn’t find them sharing breakfast and whispering sweet nothings. No it was different to that. It was a relationship of comfort, of understanding, of finding someone else who got that the end of war didn’t mean the end of pain. 

Falling into bed together night after night was an afterthought. Unintentional, but not unwanted. Neither asked the other for more because that wasn’t what it was about. They were just two damaged souls who found a strange peace in each other. What they had was there secret and they liked it that way.

“The world keeps turning and I feel like I’m the only one not turning with it. Others smile and laugh and I feel like I’m the only one crying, the only one who wakes up screaming,” Harry had whispered as Draco held him tight. “I think I’m broken.”

“If you’re broken then I’m broken with you,” Draco replied softly. 

When graduation came they said goodbye and went to start lives without each other. Except it hadn’t worked out that way. Two months into auror training out of the blue Harry had quit and announced he was going away, to travel, to figure out what he wanted. The next day he knocked on the door of Draco’s flat in Paris and proceeded to live with him for the next six weeks. When he returned to Britain he applied for an apprenticeship at St Mungo’s to become a healer.

“There’s more than one way to help people Harry. More than one way to save them,” Draco had muttered as they lay in bed and he stroked the hair out of Harry’s face. “Sometimes putting the pieces back together is a greater reward than the flashy fights and duels.”

The years passed by and they both focused most their efforts on their chosen careers. But despite the pressures of there lives they stayed in contact. Whenever Harry needed a break from the world he would turn up at Draco’s flat. Whenever Draco was back visiting his mother he would turn up in Harry’s bed. They weren’t dating, it wasn’t exclusive and they didn’t get jealous of each other. It wasn’t anything defined, it just was.

“You’re a bizarre constant in my life,” Harry had smiled as he pushed Draco to make more room in the bed. “Kind of like this weird safety net I know is going to catch me no matter what. But you don’t, you know stop me from doing whatever.”

“Eloquent as usual,” Draco said rolling his eyes, “but I suppose I can’t disagree.”

It was an arrangement that worked and they didn’t want to change. But things did change though when at twenty-seven Harry begun a new very public relationship and at the same time Draco found himself pregnant. There was no question as to who the father was. And in keeping with the unwritten rules of silence and secrecy that surrounded what they had Draco decided to keep the child, but not tell Harry. On March 21st 2008 he gave birth to a son.

It wasn’t until August 2009 that he next saw Harry, at the wedding of Luna Lovegood and Blaise Zabini.

“He’s mine isn’t he?” came a voice from just behind him.

“No he’s mine,” Draco replied without turning to face the newcomer.

“You know what I mean,” Harry sighed. They stood in silence for a few minutes not looking at each other, but down at the gardens below them.

“I thought about owling when I found out, but the stories of your blooming relationship were all over the papers so I decided against it. We’ve never intruded on each others lives before, I didn’t fancy starting then.”

“You could of for this.” Harry ruffled his hair the way he had always done, “and that relationship is over now.”

“I know, but well,” Draco shrugged then took a sip from the champagne glass in his hand. “I thought about contacting you loads of times. When he was born, when he got colic as a baby and wouldn’t stop crying, when he took his first steps. I thought about it everytime your name made it into the news, but I just couldn’t.”

“You were scared.” It wasn’t a question, but Draco nodded the affirmative anyway. 

“And selfish,” he added because when face to face they were always honest with each other. “It was never about keeping him from you. It was about being allowed to move on, I didn’t want to have to come back here for good. In Britain I feel like all anyone sees when they look at me is Lucius Malfoy’s Death Eater son.”

“You were still trying to heal.”

“Are I always?”

Harry shrugged. “You wouldn’t have been able to do that here. I mean for all the Ministry goes on about forgiveness and healing there would still be those that would never let you out from your father's shadow. Those who would never have let you become more than your childhood mistakes.” Draco turned to look at his companion properly and found he was looking straight back at him. “You made the right choice.”

“You should hate me.”

“Maybe, but I know you and I know you weren’t being malicious.” Harry gave him a small smile. “Back then I was in a relationship. Had I known I don’t know what I would have done, but I know what I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to be part of his life.” Those piercing eyes stared at Draco as though challenging him to deny him.

“Ok,” Draco nodded. “Come stay with us in Paris?”

“I would like that,” the reply was accompanied with a dazzling smile. “I should probably go now. People will start looking for me soon, if they haven’t already.” He turned and made his way back towards the ballroom, but stopped as Draco called out after him.

“His middle name is James.”

“What?”

“His middle name is James. Scorpius James.” Draco swallowed hard, “I just thought that even if you never came back, if you never found out about him that he would still have something of yours, something to tie you together.”

“You should know by now that I’ll always come back,” came the whispered reply before it’s owner went back inside to rejoin the wedding celebrations.

Harry finding out about Scorpius had changed things. After the last few years of little to no contact they began to see each other at least once a month. Harry would come over to Paris for long weekends whenever work allowed and in return Draco made more trips back to Britain often foregoing staying with his mother completely to stay at Grimmauld Place with Harry. Like with there ongoing arrangement over the years it seemed to work seamlessly. But still Draco kept the parentage of Scorpius secret and Harry kept quiet with him. What they had between them was so strong and at the same time so fragile that neither wanted to upset the balance.

“How did we create something so perfect?” Harry stared down at the sleeping child in his arms.

“You just gave the initial donation, I did most the work,” Draco’s attempt at sarcasm was ruined by the soft smile on his face.

Together they watched Scorpius learn and grow, slipping into bed with each other after he was asleep. Together they shared their hopes, dreams, fears and pains, while navigating the challenges of parenthood. But they still maintained there separate lives dating other people and to the outside world they were merely acquaintances who only saw each other when there friends dictated it. Together they would laugh about the speculation surrounding Harry’s love life and the rumours of who the other father of Draco’s son was. Both of them cherishing having something that was truly private from the gossiping vultures.

“Apparently you cloned yourself to create Scorpius,” Harry laughed as he threw the paper on the floor.

“I wish then I wouldn’t have to try and tame that horrific birds nest he inherited from you.” Draco gave him a sly look, “I hear you’re dating that ginger quidditch player again.” Harry tried to smother him with a pillow.

Draco often thought that he and Harry could go on the way they were forever. They understood each other in a way no one else did. From Harry’s fear of small spaces, to Draco’s fear of the dark and the tendence they both shared to wake up in the early hours covered in sweat and panicking from nightmares. There seemed to be nothing they couldn’t say to each other, nothing they couldn’t discuss, nothing they couldn’t do.

“I feel like I’m constantly wearing a mask. Everyone expects me to be so strong,” Harry whispered into Draco’s shoulder as the other man comforted him. “I feel like I’m not allowed to feel pain, to need help, to be anything less than perfect.”

Just before Scorpius’ fourth birthday Draco had officially moved back to Britain, and the lines between him and Harry had further blurred. An unspoken change had been made to there arrangement. Where before they had both dated freely now they only slept with each other. Where before one had always eventually left for one reason or another, they both now stayed. And although Draco had his own house both him and Scorpius spent most their time at Grimmauld Place.

“Traveling back and forth constantly is just stupid and time consuming,” Draco announced. “You work ridiculous hours and wouldn’t see Scorpius if we weren’t here so often.”

Separately they both thought about what would happen if they admitted the truth to the world. But doing that would mean admitting it to themselves and to each other first. It became the one thing they never spoke about. Instead Draco lied to his mother and his friends and Harry lied to the Weasleys. Both had a suspicion that it couldn’t last, but neither expected there bubble to burst and expose them to the world in the way it did.

When Draco’s lioness patronus had burst into the Burrow garden during Harry’s thirty-second birthday celebrations it had been the first time either of them had purposefully intruded on the others outside life. When Draco’s voice burst out of the lioness Harry felt all the blood drain from his face and all encompassing fear and panic take hold.

“Come to St Mungo’s. It’s Scorpius. Room 284”

In that moment nothing else matter but reaching his son.

“What happened?” Harry had asked as soon as he entered the room, breathless from running.

“They think it’s magical drainage,” Draco replied. He looked a mess sat next to the hospital bed, his hands cradling Scorpius’. “He’s not been feeling well for a few days. I just thought it was a cold, but he passed out and I brought him here as fast as I could.”

“You did the right thing Draco,” Harry tried to reassure him. He moved to brush the hair off Scorpius’ face. “What did the healer say?”

“That he’ll probably need a transfusion.” Draco muttered. 

“Yeah that sounds about right,” Harry said with a sigh. He waved his wand whispering a spell to enlarge Draco’s chair and sat down next to him, pulling the other man into his arms. “We’ll do whatever is needed and he’ll be fine.”

“You promise?” Draco’s pleading voice was little more than a whisper.

“I promise Draco. I promise,” Harry whispered back.

They both sat there holding each other and when the healer came back Harry had told her to use him for the transfusion. Told her to take whatever was needed and not to stop, even if it killed him.

“I promise you he’ll be alright and I mean it,” Harry told Draco as he prepared for the procedure. “He’ll be running around causing havoc again in no time.” 

Draco watched while Harry and Scorpius lay on beds next to each other. Father and son connected by a magical tether and surrounded by wards so as to stop any outside interference. Anywhere between twelve and twenty four hours they told him. Every minute felt like an hour as Draco sat there feeling completely useless.

At hour fifthteen an exhausted Draco had reluctantly left the room to face those who had gathered. Family and close friends, not reporters the healer had assured him. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised to find a number of Weasley’s sitting in the waiting room with his mother, but he was. He didn’t have the energy to answer any of the questions they began throwing at him. What was happening? Where was Harry? What was going on? He just told them that his son, his Scorpius was ill and Harry was saving his life. Then he had turned and gone back into the room. He had sat back down and continued to wait.

Hour twenty-one Scorpius had woken and Draco had breathed a sigh of relief. He would need further treatment, but the worst was over. Safe, he was safe because Harry, always the hero, had saved his life. Harry who didn’t wake for another hour and only once he had did Draco finally allowed himself to sleep.

It was Harry who had gone to speak with the people assembled in the waiting room the following day. The worst was over he had told them, but Scorpius would still need to stay at St Mungo’s a while longer. Harry would stay with him, with him and Draco. The Weasley’s had questioned why, but Narcissa had looked at Harry as though he was the final piece of a puzzle she had long been trying to solve. In a way he probably was.

“We need to tell them something,” Harry had declared when he re-entered Scorpius’ room. 

Draco looked up at him and paused in running his hand through his sleeping sons hair. “Yes I thought as much.”

“What do we tell them?” Harry asked. “How much do well tell them?”

Draco shrugged. He didn’t know. How did you explain the last fourteen years? There complex undefined relationship that had started out as an unconventional companionship, a strange understand of each other when if felt like no one else got it. The years of sleeping together on and off as and when they were both without other partners. Scorpius and the bizarre arrangement they had originally had surrounding him. The evolution of it all into whatever it was that they now had. How did you explain the things they had never voiced? Thing like how Draco was certain he couldn’t live without Harry, or that Harry fully believed he would never find someone who understood him like Draco? 

“What if I told them that Scorpius is mine and that,” Harry paused and took a deep breath, “and that behind closed doors we’ve been raising him together,” he eyed Draco nervously looking to see his reaction, “what if we let them know that much?”

“What if we told them that we’re together?” Draco asked cautiously.

“What?” Harry looked at him wide eyed.

“We were eighteen when whatever this is began Harry, and you’re thirty-two in a couple of days,” Draco paused and licked his lips nervously. “Tell me truthfully could you ever walk away and not come back? Would you ever want to?” He stared earnestly at Harry who stared back unsure what to say. “We might not have ever said it, might have always shied away from labelling anything, but the simple truth is we’re already together. We have been for years.”

A long pause followed Draco’s statement.

“I’m in love with you,” Harry whispered.

“And I’m in love with you,” Draco replied.

“I’ve probably been in love with you since I was eighteen,” Harry muttered.

“I’ve known for over a decade that there’s no one but you,” a tear ran down Draco’s cheek, “that you’re it for me.”

“I don’t want anyone else. I don’t think I ever really have. It’s always just been you.” Harry wiped the tears from Draco’s face and cupped it. “Marry me?” 

Draco snorted, “Only you Harry would think now is a good time to propose.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re taking my last name.” 

“If it means I get to keep you then anything.” Harry answered earnestly.

“Anything?” Draco questioned and Harry nodded. “Well if that's the case then you can deal with the reporters.”

Laughter filled the room as the two watched Scorpius sleep and thought of the headlines that would dominate the papers once this got out. “The Saviors Secret Son,” “Malfoy’s Mystery Man,” “The Chosen One’s Chosen One.”

In the months that followed friends had screamed, family members had cried and the public had become split in their opinion. Was it all a massive hoax or a beautiful love story? 

Harry and Draco had always found something comforting, something soothing about being together behind closed doors, hidden in the safety of the cocoon they had created. There they were always able to gain the strength from each other that neither could find anywhere else. But now that had been blown open and everything had been exposed for all the world to see. It was a storm neither had prepared for, but that they weathered together.

“Why they all think they’re entitled to know the details of our life is beyond me,” Draco moaned as he stretched out on the couch.

“They’re all nosy fuckers. It’s our story and they can bloody wait until we’re ready to tell it,” Harry rubbing a hand over Draco’s swollen stomach. “For now though I don’t think we’ve finished writing it.”

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had just happened. Neither of them could tell you for sure how it started, but they could tell you how it would end. Because there was no other way it could end then with the two fractured eighteen year olds growing up and becoming two patched up old wizards. Two old wizards who would alway pick up the broken pieces of the other and put them back together again and again, decade after decade. All things considered the start didn’t really matter, what mattered was that for some reason it never ended.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Any and all feedback is welcome.


End file.
